Merope is a star
by silentlyatnight
Summary: Merope is a star, member of the Pleiades, and she's well aware of it. But if she's a star, Tom is her sun.


**QLFC, R12. Seeker for the Chudley Cannons.** Write a FLUFFY SLICE OF LIFE story about THE GAUNT FAMILY

 **Word count: 931**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

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The constellation of Taurus shines in the night; it seems to burn the dark blue curtain of the night sky. Its light goes through the crowns of the trees and reaches her, wrapping her up like a warm, cozy embrace. It may be silly of her, but Merope feels safe and protected. It's a heavenly feeling, and she smiles, a secret one. That smile says, "I see what you cannot and I reach for what you cannot. Royalty runs in my blood." The night knows of it and hides its daughter, tucks her in, subtracting her to her undeserving family.

When the moon shines, Merope stops being a Gaunt. Marvolo is not her father anymore. Morfin is not her brother. She is not any girl—she might or might not have magic; it does not matter. At night, she is a star, a star in the constellation of Taurus and a member of the Pleiades. She has six sisters, and they love her, as mighty Taurus protects her and fights for her against everything and everyone.

Sometimes she forgets it, but she has a splendid name, and that name is a gift from her earthly family. She doesn't know how they had guessed she was a star, but they did, and she is grateful for it. Without them, she would have neglected her true legacy for who knows how long.

She smiles. Gratitude fills her heart, because she was born in the Gaunt family. They named her after the star, they have magic, they've taught her how to brew potions and, most importantly, they've come to live here, near the one who—she had decided it long time ago—have become her caring and lovely husband: _Tom_. He is not a star, but his very own name is enough to make her smirk. He's handsome and fascinating; he's like the sun that shines and effortlessly makes the shadows go away.

Merope looks at her sleeping husband. He's so sweet while he sleeps. She has but one regret; she can't see his beautiful eyes—they are a double lantern to her—for his lids hide them.

She then casts her gaze on her abdomen and caresses it, remembering what happened two hours ago. She's still too excited to sleep.

* * *

 _"Tom!" she says. She always calls him by his name, using it whenever she has to start or end a sentence because she likes how it slips on her tongue. "Tom, guess what? I'm pregnant!"  
_

 _"Oh, sweetheart, what a wonderful news!" Her husband hugs her and makes her twirl, lifting her of her feet. He beams. "I really hope it will be a girl, so I'll have two Princess to take care of and cherish!"_

 _She doesn't agree. She wants it to be a boy so that he'll be like his father. She wants two Tom's to dote on. But Tom's delightful chatter prevents her from talking; he looks genuinely happy, and she squeals too, as he kisses and tickles her neck.  
_

 _She knows his love may be artificial—she's been feeding him with Amortentia, after all—but this is all too good for her to give up her dreams and illusion. He does love her; the way is not important. And he even looks happy to love her if the mirth on his face can be trusted, which she does. They are both happy, so happy that she's dizzy, and they both let themselves fall on the soft bed with a little bounce.  
_

 _Tom looks at her intensively and she can't help herself; she has to whisper his name. "Tom. Tom, kiss me. Love me, Tom!"_

 _He's only too glad to please her._

* * *

A quiet groan brings her back from her memory and she casts her gaze on the sleeping form of her charming husband. She really, really wants a boy and already can play the scene of his birth in her head.

* * *

 _Any strength has deserted her and the pain is almost unbearable, but happiness overwhelms her when she hears her baby cry. Joy is a flame that's set fire to her, and the fire cannot be extinguished. She doesn't even want to. Stars burn, so it's alright._

 _Tom, her husband, is beside her, gently squeezing her hand between his own. He has watery eyes, but he smiles. "Thank you, my precious. The life we've created,_ you _'ve created tonight is simply perfect."  
_

 _She smiles back. "It is a boy, isn't it, Tom?" She's too tired to check the baby out herself._

 _"Yes. Here." He lays her child on her chest.  
_

 _After taking a good look at him, she says, "He is indeed beautiful. And he has your eyes."_

 _Merope knows they'll love him forever. The little Tom is their son, after all. She feels like her life is full now. She has her husband's love_ —she has no doubt she'll win him— _and both of them have this little bundle of joy, the fruit of their nights, conceived with the bliss of her the night, born under a starry sky.  
_

* * *

 _He'll have his father's eyes_ , she repeats to herself.

He'll be the second sun in Merope's life. That's why she would not name him after any star. You can only have one sun, and when you find it, you can't leave it go.

Comforted by this thought, she finally goes to sleep, cuddling against Tom.

Outside, the night sweetly supervises the two lovers, as the stars twinkle.


End file.
